At the end of this month, Saturday, May 31, at 11 a.m. on the northeast corner of Broadway and North Vanderhurst, city officials will have a ribbon cutting marking the opening of the newest addition to downtown. The King City Downtown Plaza and Visitor and History Center has quite a long name, which is befitting because we waited a long time for it. For whatever reasons, they matter little now, that project, part of the city’s downtown revitalization plan, took months to complete, so opening day will be a welcoming event to kick off summer activities.
Future years will see the plaza and visitor/history building, both brought back to life after decades of nothingness, used for various reasons; but there is one activity once common to American culture I would like to see: the return of the soapbox orator. For those unaware of the term, let me elucidate. There was a time when mass media in the USofA was not all that mass, newspapers were far and few between, so those who had a message they wished to convey to the public would find a suitable place in the town, mount a small stage, and exercise their First Amendment rights. The boxes used to ship bars of soap were common, easy to carry and sturdy enough to support the weight of a man, or woman: now you know.
As the plaza has a stage as part of its design, the need for a bring-your-own-riser does not exist; all one needs is a message and an audience. I have seen many films that portray street orators in various ways, but I have only witnessed it once in my life and that was way back in 1970 when I was a drama major at Hartnell College. It was the anti-Vietnam War days and we had our own student orator who, true to form, stood atop a wooden box in the large grass area in the middle of the campus and filled the air with words of discontent and revolution. His last name was Parker, I don’t recall his first.
With a small amount of prior notice via flyers, social media and word of mouth, a person could let we the people know when to hear the words and what those words would be about. Nothing would be, within established parameters of the First Amendment, off limits. Religion and politics (the Big Two when it comes to emotions), environment, local history, support of nonprofit organizations, nonsupport of some aspect of government (always a crowd pleaser), and any other subject that may draw listeners. At the very least, the arts people in town need to utilize that stage to showcase to the non-theater goers in town what they are missing out on. And what message would I offer from the top of my soapbox, you ask. Well, there are two subjects on my mind now, so let’s use those.
Soapbox Speech #1 is a rant and therefore should not be construed as unbiased; in fact, it would be prudent for readers to just go ahead and assume I am way off to one side on this subject. Here it is: I wish there was some way the citizens of South County could wrest control of the Auditorium from the clutches of the high school. Officials of the school have by and large been poor stewards of the building for decades; if not for the efforts of some very serious King City residents, that fine old building would have suffered the wrecking ball way back in 1987.
But that opinion is personal, my public opinion as a member of the board of directors of the Southern Monterey County Center for the Performing Arts is that a strong working relationship is needed, and gradually being established, between the school and those dedicated to the upkeep of the city’s only registered historic building. If you wish to be a part of this support group as either a contributing member or serve on the board, there are a couple seats open, then shoot me an email and I’ll put you in touch with the right people. Thanks in advance.
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Soapbox Speech #2 is, not to disappoint, another rant. I have read pages of information and viewed more pages of architectural drawings regarding a one-third acre parcel of land out in the northeast corner of the city, part of an ongoing home construction project. I have walked the property with those drawings and concluded that to put eight housing units on such a small piece of dirt was not what King City needed. I did this because I am a volunteer member of the city’s planning commission. When the construction proposal was first introduced to the commission, the builders were asked to address some issues and return. They did, twice. And both times three of the five commissioners voted against the project as unsuitable for the city’s needs. Three strikes and you’re out, right? Wrong.
That lab rat maze of domiciles with exposed vehicle shed (personal opinion) will be built by order of a higher authority than we volunteers. Their decision has raised some questions in my mind, and I think come first opportunity, I’ll try to get some answers.
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My father, mother, brother, sister-in-law, niece and myself were all, for varying lengths of time, prison people. As such I responded to movies depicting prison life, so names like San Quentin, Sing Sing and Alcatraz were well known. Especially Alcatraz because of its proximity to Greenfield. I have read many books about the island prison, viewed documentaries, and twice visited the place. I know why The Rock was shut down 62 years ago and I know why the idea of reopening it could only come from the mind of an ignoramus. If any of you American taxpayers think this is a wise investment, then I have a bridge in Brooklyn I’ll sell you, cheap.
Take care. Peace.
